Never Say Never
by soxnknots93
Summary: Denise is a teenager who loves all things Lord of the Rings, especially Boromir's story. When she is suddenly swept into Middle-earth after an accident, she is determined to save Boromir from death so he may return to Gondor and to his one love; Gilraen.
1. Chapter 1

_He was sitting with his back to a great tree, as if he was resting. But Aragorn saw that he was pierced with many black-feathered arrows; his sword was still in his hand, but it was broken near the hilt; his horn cloven in two was at his side. Many Orcs lay slain, piled all about him and at his feet. Aragorn knelt beside him. Boromir opened his eyes and strove to speak. At last slow words came. _

"_I tried to take the Ring from Frodo." he said. "I am sorry. I have paid."_

_His glance strayed to his fallen enemies; twenty at least lay there. _

"_They have gone: the Halflings: the Orcs have taken them. I think they are not dead. Orcs bound them." _

_He paused and his eyes closed wearily. After a moment he spoke again. _

"_Farewell, Aragorn! Go to Minas Tirith and save my people! I have failed."_

"_No!" said Aragorn, taking his hand and kissing his brow. "You have conquered. Few have gained such a victory. Be at peace! Minas Tirith shall not fall!" Boromir smiled. _

"_Which way did they go? Was Frodo there?" said Aragorn. But Boromir did not speak again._

"Denise! Denise, dinner is ready!" Denise snapped out of her trance, as her mother called her from the kitchen. It was easy for her to become so wrapped up in the beauty that was Middle-earth, that it actually was not too difficult for her to mentally place herself there, totally drowning out anything that was going on in the background.

"I'm coming, Mom!" Denise closed the book, and placed it on the coffee table, hoping to get back to the story as soon as possible. The faster she gobbled down her mother's home made split pea soup, the faster she would get back to the Two Towers.

. Discussion at the dinner table was surprisingly lacking that night. Denise's younger sister was having dinner at her friend's house, and her little brother had some sort of sports event –something that she knew absolutely nothing about. Sports never interested her, and she hardly made it her business to find out.

"Denise, would you mind doing me a favor after dinner?" her mother said, collecting her napkin and placing it on her empty plate. Denise dreaded what her mother was about to say. It was probably going to be something along the lines of picking up one of her siblings; something that she definitely did not want to do. It was Saturday night and as a senior in high school, Denise just wanted some peace and quiet, and the ability to relax.

"Yeah, sure. What is it?"

"Marie needs to be picked up from her friend's house. She asked to spend the night, but she has a big project due on Monday that needs to be completed, so I told her she couldn't stay. I want you to pick her up while I go and collect your brother." Her mother paused thoughtfully for a moment, but then smiled and chuckled. "Keep in mind that Marie will be…pouty. But be patient—you should be able to remember how it is to be denied a sleepover at your friend's house."

Denise mentally rolled her eyes, but gave her mom a smile. She loved her mother and certainly did not mind running errands for her. The grocery store? Not a problem. The bank? A piece of cake. But being the chauffer for her siblings was more than she could bear.

Nevertheless, she finished her meal, loaded her plate into the dishwasher, and then proceeded to her broken down, used Chevy, which had been her 18th birthday present. It had over one hundred thousand miles on it, and was not the most reliable of vehicles. Denise was still thrilled with it, though. It was her baby, and as far as she was concerned, a box with wheels was better than walking.

Rain began pouring down as she drove. As each block passed by, and she became further and further away from home, the rain just seemed pound down harder.

"Come on, baby. You can make it." Talking to her car was something that Denise had taken to doing. The flow was so heavy that even the wind shield wipers could not completely clear her view, making her very nervous. As she waited at the red light, she daydreamed about curling up in bed, with the Two Towers in hand. At least she would have the rest of the night to relax.

As the stop light turned green, she pressed her foot onto the accelerator and headed for the intersection. Before she could react, a car coming from her left sped through the red light and slammed hard into the driver's side.

The wind had been knocked out of Denise. She felt so much pain so suddenly, that she did not know what to do about it. She could not even scream. The image and sensation of blood trickling down her entire left side did not even register with her at first. All she could think about was her mother. And the pain. The pain was so intense. Breathtaking; but not in the way beautiful scenery is breathtaking. Her breath had actually been taken, and her breathing had been reduced to short, painful gasps of air. Blood streamed down her face and into her eyes, stinging them. She could also taste it in her mouth and gagged on it.

But her mother. What would her mother say if she did not survive this? That is what worried her the most. Denise had become her mother's right arm after her father left the family when she was only thirteen. She could not bear to think about leaving her mother all alone.

And death was certainly something that was ever present in her mind, as the pain grew more and more intense, and she began slipping in and out of consciousness. She noticed police cars and an ambulance pulling up outside of her car, and that was the moment when the true damage that had been done finally hit her. Denise whimpered, and a single tear trickled down her cheek as she looked at the paramedics outside of her car, desperately trying to pry her car open in order to get to her.

But Denise suddenly became weak, and her eyes began to blur worse than ever. No matter how hard she fought for her sight, it was useless. She finally let go, and just stared straight ahead at the shattered windshield. The sounds of paramedics and police officers working to break into her car became fainter, as she began to slip out of consciousness. But this time, she did not come out of it.

All went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Gilraen did not want to let Boromir go, but reality hit her as she watched him slowly disappear into the sunset. It seemed as though she was in the kind of tale her father read to her when she was small. It was as if she was the maiden who waited and hoped that her husband would return from battle. Surely this council would not keep him long.

Gilraen slowly turned and began heading back to her home. It would be empty without Boromir.

She had tried to convince him to let her come along. Although she was a woman, she had some skill with a blade and was more than capable of defending herself if she needed to. But Boromir would not have it.

"I could not bear the thought of harm coming to you, little one. You are married to me now; you shall stay behind and I will be back as soon as I am able." Boromir had said, while taking her hands and pulling her close for a sweet kiss on the lips.

"What if we have children? What then will they do if their mother is out fighting and risking her life for Middle-earth? No. I will not allow for it. But know that I will be thinking of you always. I will return. I promise." With that, Boromir had mounted his horse and gave Gilraen a smile that she would keep in her mind and heart for the rest of her life.

Many times had Boromir ridden off on a journey, but this time, Gilraen had a terrible feeling. Sorrow had begun to fill her heart the moment Boromir had told her that he had business in Rivendell. Thoughts of following him clouded her mind, but she did her best to fight them off. She knew how to get to Rivendell, as she had used that route many a time with her father when she was small.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a young boy approached her and noticed the tears that had welled up in her eyes.

"Do not worry, Lady Gilraen. Lord Boromir will return. He is a great warrior." Gilraen did her best to form a sincere smile on her face. She was grateful for her kind, young neighbor's concern. She knew his family well, and had actually grown up with his mother. They still remained close friends.

"Thank you, Amras. Where is your mother?" Gilraen asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"She is tending to a wounded young girl."

"A wounded young girl?" Gilraen's brows lifted in surprise at the sound of this.

"Yes. Mother found her lying in the street, covered in blood. She looked as if she had been in a battle." Amras looked as if he was getting excited at the thought of a battle. Playing soldier was his favorite game, and he always dreamed of being a great warrior one day.

"She is alive?"

"Yes, but barely. Shall I take you to her?" Amras asked. Gilraen was both intrigued and concerned at the thought of this strange happening. She wiped her eyes one last time, to ensure that a stray tear would not fall, and finally answered the young boy.

"Yes please. At once."


	3. Chapter 3

The young woman was lying on a cot when Gilraen entered the house of her close friend, Lamiel. Amras quickly ran to his mother's side, as she tended to the wounded girl.

"How is she, Mother?" Lamiel sighed and a look of sadness came over her face.

"It is very hard it say at this time, my son. I myself am mystified by how she ended up this way." Lamiel looked up at Gilraen, and momentarily turned her attention to the subject of Boromir.

"Lord Boromir has left, hasn't he?" Gilraen sadly looked down and nodded.

"Yes. But I do not wish to discuss that at this time. Tell me how you found her." Gilraen said, gesturing at the cut up and bloodied girl.

"I was on my way back from the market, and I turned to see her lying, tucked away in an alley. She was barely alive by the time I had gotten her back here." Lamiel paused for a moment and sighed. "And to be truthful, I am not confident that she will…survive."

"She is so very young…" Gilraen estimated that she was no older than eighteen or nineteen; certainly not twenty. "I wonder if she has family that is close by. Although, she does not look as if she comes from these parts. Her clothing is most strange. She is wearing…trousers." Lamiel chuckled at her friend's last statement. That had been the first thing to catch her attention when she had first spotted the young girl. Most of the women of Gondor would not dare being seen in men's clothing. Perhaps she was a warrior maiden from a distant land?

"Mother, may I go outside to play?" Amras asked, breaking the silence.

"I think it is best if you remain indoors for the rest of the night. It is getting dark, and I would also like for you to help me take care of this young woman." Amras was mature for his nine years, and so he nodded and proceeded to do what his mother asked of him. Gilraen was impressed, and began thinking of the children she wished to have with Boromir. Having come from a small family, she dreamed of having multiple children; three boys and three girls. But her mind soon went to dark places, as she feared that Boromir would not return.

"Gilraen, would you like to stay for supper?" Lamiel asked, saving Gilraen from her distressing thoughts.

"I would not want to impose."

"Not at all! It will be a simple meal, but there will be plenty. Amras and I would be pleased if you would join us."

Gilraen smiled and nodded. "Thank you. I would be glad to stay, but only if you allow me to help prepare the meal and tend to this young girl."

The night was nicer than Gilraen had expected. Not having to stay home alone in an empty house was a relief and a huge weight off of her heart. Supper was delicious; it was no more than bread with butter and roasted potatoes, but a meal that had been cooked by her very close friend certainly hit the spot.

Discussions around the dinner table abruptly came to a stop when they noticed the young woman stirring in her bed. She moaned and turned over to face them. Finally, after a few moments of silence, her eyes opened. Her face was frozen with a look of surprise and fear. She did not speak, but merely stared and looked around the room.

"We are happy to see that you have awakened." Lamiel said, trying to sound as comforting as possible. "We have been very concerned about you."

"W-where a-am I?" the young girl stuttered and flinched when she tried to push herself up.

"You are in the city of Minas Tirith if that is the answer you are looking for. But more specifically, you are in my home. I am Lamiel, and this is my son Amras. I found you in the street when I was on my way home from the market, and I wanted to bring you home with me, where I could tend to you better. We mean you no harm."

Gilraen smiled at the kindness of her friend. Lamiel had been that way since they were small; always looking out for others. She was beautiful, too. She had dark brown, curly hair which she always keep in a neat bun; dark brown eyes, and a smile that could light up a room. She was also very intelligent, always saying the appropriate thing at the appropriate time.

"May I ask your name?" Gilraen asked the shocked and frightened girl.

"Denise…" she spoke quietly. "I don't understand how I got here….my sister…I was driving…a car slammed into me…" she suddenly broke down into tears and Lamiel quickly ran to her side to comfort her.

"Hush, hush. It will be alright. Do you have a family that lives nearby?"

"I don't know where nearby is….you said Minas Tirith….Minas Tirith as in Middle-earth?" Denise asked, raising her voice, almost in a panicked tone. Gilraen and Lamiel could not help but raise their brows by this question. Of course Middle-earth.

"Yes, Middle-earth…" Gilraen hesitated.

"I must be dreaming. You guys can't be serious. This has to be a joke, right? Right?"

"Settle down, and take a deep breath. There. Now, perhaps you could slowly explain what the trouble is and what could have possibly happened to you."

"I was driving." Denise began. "I was going to pick up my sister from her friend's house, because my mother had asked me to. I don't recall much of what happened, but I know I was in an accident. Another car slammed into me….the rain…it was so painful…"

Tears filled her eyes once again, but instead of breaking down, she tried to hold them back. Lamiel and Gilraen were very confused by much of what she said.

"I am not sure if I understand." Lamiel began. "Were you in a carriage?"

"No, a car." Denise thought that they were crazy, but decided to humor them anyway….at least until she began to feel better and could figure out what really was going on.

"Perhaps she is feverish…" Gilraen whispered to Lamiel.

"I can still hear you, you know." Denise said, suddenly becoming a little bolder with her choice of words. "If anyone is feverish, it must be you people. I want to be taken back home to my family. Middle-earth is nothing more than a fantasy. I am injured and you are taking advantage of that."

"My dear, we do not mean any harm. Where are you from?" Lamiel asked.

"I'm from New York….that's in the United States of America." Denise said, lowering her voice.

"I am sorry to say that we are not familiar with that land." Gilraen said.

Denise remained silent. She could not believe what she was hearing. Middle-earth was something that she adored—but only as wonderful world that came from the genius that was Tolkien. Of course, in her dreams or writings, she always imagined what it would be like to end up there….but this had to be just her imagination going wild again. Surely she did not really end up in Middle-earth!

"Denise," Lamiel said gently, while placing a comforting hand on Denise's arm. "There are many things about what has happened that we are unsure of, but at this time we will have to take your word for it. You are unwell, and need care. I am just thankful that you are awake now. Perhaps as time goes on we will be able to better understand one another. But for now, you are more than welcome to stay in my home."

Denise had a lot that she wanted to say to them, but she just nodded and agreed to Lamiel's proposition. After all, she was helpless; her body was badly bruised and cut up, and they were offering care that she was sure she would not get if she chose to leave them. Maybe it was all a bad dream; one that she would wake up from at any moment. And maybe it was time that Denise admitted to herself that she had watched and read too much Lord of the Rings.

"Lamiel, might I be able to speak with you alone for a moment?" Gilraen asked.

"Of course." The two women made their way into the corner of the sitting room.

"Is there something troubling you?" Lamiel asked.

"Let me take her."

"I am afraid I do not understand."

"Let me take her into my home. You already have Amras to care for. With Boromir gone, I would enjoy the extra company." Gilraen was sincere. She was also intrigued by Denise's story and was hoping that by taking her into her home, she would be able to better understand what was going on.

"Are you sure it would not be too much trouble for you?" Lamiel asked.

"No trouble at all." Gilraen smiled. She turned and walked over to Denise, who had finally been able to sit up comfortably.

"Denise, I would be pleased to take you into my home. I am living alone at the moment, so that will ensure you more room to recover."

"Thanks." Denise said quietly. "Do you mean to tell me that you are living all alone?"

"At the moment, as I mentioned before. My husband is away. He was summoned to Rivendell for an important council. That is all I know." This last statement caught Denise's attention.

"May I ask your husband's name?" Denise asked, gulping, still unsure about whether this was really real or not. After all, this could be one of those freak accidents where people ended up in a different time and place. She had read about it in magazines, but never believed it possible. Could that be what was happening to her? Denise mentally kicked herself for even thinking along those lines. She was an honor student at school; smart both academically and intellectually. There was no way that she could believe this; no matter how much she loved the Lord of the Rings Trilogy.

"Yes of course. My husband's name is Boromir. Why? Do you know of him?"


	4. Chapter 4

Denise gulped. She had ten posters of Boromir taped to her wall; he was the subject of all of her fan fiction stories; and of course, Sean Bean was her favorite actor. To put it simply, she knew very well who Boromir was. But was she going to tell them that? They were already crazy enough to believe that they were really in Middle-earth; what would they do if Denise played into it even more? On the other hand, if they weren't in New York, then where the heck were they?

"No, I don't. I just thought I'd ask who he was. That's all." Denise left it at that, and no one seemed to be interested in pursuing the topic any longer. Instead, Lamiel brought a damp cloth over to her bedside, and began dabbing at the tiny cuts that were all over her face. Denise flinched as this happened, but there was something that was also soothing about the cold water on her skin.

A feeling of guilt began to fill Denise's heart the more she thought about Boromir being married to the woman who had offered to take care of her. Boromir was going to die, but Gilraen did not know that. She continued to dream of his returning and of their future together. There was something tremendously depressing about that. But what could Denise do about it? It was at that moment when she thought of the words her mother would speak to her whenever she would be worried about a friend:

"Denise, it is fine and dandy to care about a person, but you cannot take on their problems."

And usually, that would settle whatever uneasiness she felt within herself, but in this case, it did not seem like enough.

"What is New York like?" Amras suddenly blurted out from the corner of the room.

"I don't really know what to say." Denise chuckled quietly. "When people think of New York, they usually think of the big and bustling city. But to be honest, I come from more of a suburban area…" she trailed off as she could see that they were completely confused by what she was saying.

"I know you are, uh…unfamiliar with my 'land,' but I don't know how else to explain it to you."

"Do you have many horseless carriages there?" asked Amras, surprising everyone present, as they did not think he had been listening as much as he had.

"Yes. Many." Denise smiled. She loved kids, and he seemed like an unusually mature one.

"I would like to see one of those. I cannot imagine a carriage moving without the help of horses." Gilraen interjected. She then yawned and looked embarrassed.

"I beg your pardon; it has been a rather trying day, which I suppose has caught up with me."

"Gilraen, why don't you allow yourself to go home and sleep for a while? You have been most helpful, but I do not want you to fall ill from doing too much. Amras and I will be able to care for Denise until you are ready to take her into your home." Lamiel said, resting her hand onto Gilraen's shoulder.

At first, Gilraen wanted to protest, but her exhaustion got the better of her and she agreed to let Denise stay the night. Truthfully, she wanted to bring her home so she could get more information on the strange and distant land from which she said she came.

After they had said their goodbyes, the feeling of sadness again began to fill Gilraen's heart, as she realized that she would be entering an empty home. Oh, how she wanted Boromir to hold her in his strong arms; she felt so safe in his embrace.

OoOoOoO

The night was long for Denise—and painful. She was no doctor, but she knew her body and had a feeling that at least one of her ribs was broken. It hurt to breathe, and even the slightest movement made her want to scream out in pain. Just like any other sleepless night, Denise's thoughts came back to haunt her. Her mind was reeling with the thoughts of Boromir's death; the children he would not have; the joyous years he would not experience with his wife.

"Stop it, Denise. Calm down. It's not your responsibility." She whispered to herself. After a few silent moments, she realized that she had spoken loud enough to wake up the sleeping Amras. He had been sleeping on a small cot on the other side of the room. The house was so small that he did not even have his own room, something that Denise was not used to.

"What is not your responsibility?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Nothing." Denise said, trying to dismiss it.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

"No, it was nothing."

"Sometimes if you speak about a dream that troubled you, it will make it go away and never come back."

"Amras, it was not a dream. It was merely—"

"The other night, I dreamed that I was fighting off a dragon that had set fire to all of Gondor. I got to wear armor and wield a sword like my father. I returned home a hero." Amras smiled proudly at his last statement.

Denise smiled. He was a sweet, innocent child who was wise beyond his years in some ways.

"Amras," she began again. "I did not have a dream. I was just thinking aloud, that is all. Sometimes, in order to clear my mind, I speak my thoughts. Don't worry about me."

"If you say so. But if you need to talk about your dreams, I am willing to listen."

"Thanks, sweetie."

The room was silent for a few minutes, before Amras began speaking again.

"Denise?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have a father?"

"Yes, of course I do."

"What is he like?"

This put a frown on Denise's face, since her parent's story did not exactly have a fairytale ending.

"I can't really say…" she said quietly.

"Why not?" he asked, propping himself up on his elbow.

"My father left my family about five years ago, when I was thirteen." Denise was hoping that she wasn't saying anything that wouldn't be age-appropriate.

"Why would he do a thing like that?" asked Amras, looking distressed.

"My parent's didn't…uh, exactly get along. They disagreed on a lot of topics, and he decided to leave. I have not seen him since."

Amras looked very sad by the thought of such a thing occurring.

"I never met my father." He said, sadly and quietly. This got Denise's attention.

"Why not?"

"He died in battle when I was still a baby. My mother has raised me all alone, but we are close with Lady Gilraen and Lord Boromir." He paused for a moment and then smiled. "Lord Boromir has been like a father to me. He has taught me how to throw daggers and he said that one day I will make a fine warrior. I miss him, and I cannot wait for him to return."

The thoughts came back. Denise felt terrible that she knew that we was going to die, while they believed that he would come home. But what was she going to say to him? That his father figure would be "pierced with many arrows?"

"How nice it is for you that you have such a kind man in your life. He sounds like a wonderful person." Denise managed to choke out.

"Yes he is….perhaps you will meet him sometime!"

"Perhaps…" Denise mumbled.

Amras yawned and suddenly got a sleepy look on his face.

"Why don't you try to get some sleep?" Denise suggested. He nodded and snuggled down beneath his blankets, and within minutes, he was sound asleep again.

Denise remembered when she was that age and sleep seemed to be so easy (with the exception of waiting for Santa on Christmas), and she wished that she could fall asleep that way again. But that would not happen for her.

Her mind tormented her well into the night, before she fell asleep. Her thought processes were divided into two separate options: she could either say nothing about it and await the news of his death, or she could say something about it and…..and what?

The "what" was what she was having the problem with. And what….wield a sword? And what…journey through Middle-earth to Amon Hen? And what…..save him from the Uruk-hai? How?

The "how" was her second problem.

But, in order for her to fall asleep, she needed to make a decision. And she did.

She decided that she would never be able to learn how to fight; she would never be able to save Boromir; but she also decided that she should never say never.


	5. Chapter 5

Denise really enjoyed living with Gilraen. Their living conditions, however, almost entirely convinced her of the fact that they were really in Middle-earth. No indoor plumbing, electrical poles, or anything of that sort. The first time she had ventured outdoors, Denise realized that there was no possible way that kidnappers could construct a city as beautiful as Minas Tirith (if indeed she had been kidnapped from New York; a possibility that had gone through her mind). And the city she was in looked exactly like what had been portrayed in the movie.

Along with the pleasant times, there were some very sad and quiet ones, too. Gilraen spent a lot of time staring sadly out of the window, almost as if she was waiting to see Boromir riding across the field towards home. Dense felt badly, and was still building the courage to say something about what would happen. There wouldn't be much time to do anything about it, if she waited any longer.

The fire crackled, and Gilraen sat in a chair staring at it for comfort. Denise approached her with a smile. The cuts that were once on her face were beginning to heal, and the pain in her side had subsided for the most part. If nothing else, the people of Middle-earth were miracle workers.

"May I sit down?" Denise asked, gesturing to a rocking chair that was directly across from where Gilraen was sitting.

"Of course." Gilraen said. She looked happy to have company.

The rain trickled down outside, producing a soothing sound. But Denise could not relax at that moment. She thought, and then made a decision.

"Lady Gilraen?" she asked.

"Yes, Denise?"

"There is something that I want to speak to you about." Denise paused, not knowing how to continue. Gilraen started at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I do not know how to say this to you. There are certain things I know about….I can't really explain how…but I do. And, I know about what is going to happen to your husband.

"Boromir?" Gilraen looked at Denise in disbelief. How on earth would she know about her husband?

"Yes. Lord Boromir. He is going to…" she stopped mid-sentence, unable to bear the thought of Gilraen's reaction.

"Please continue, Denise. What is going to happen?"

"He is going to be killed."

Gilraen was silent for quite a while. She first displayed a look of horror, but after a few moments, she looked almost as if she was going to laugh; like Denise had told a joke.

"I beg your pardon? What would make you say a thing like that?"

"Lady Gilraen, I don't know how to explain it. But…you know I am from New York. I am from another time and place. I realize that is probably a lot for you to comprehend, but you must listen to me. Because I am from another time, there are certain things I know about. And I know that this will happen if nothing is done."

"You must be joking with me! That is absolutely preposterous! Do you take pleasure in troubling people who already have troubles? This is most certainly not the time for me to be hearing such nonsense! In—in my condition!" Gilraen had first begun speaking quietly, but escalated to yelling. She finally broke down, and with her face in her hands, she began to weep.

"I am sorry. I am not trying to cause any trouble. Why would I want to do that to someone who has been so kind to me and has nursed me back to health? I have brought up this matter so something could be done about this. You have to believe me." Denise said, placing a hand on Gilraen's shoulder.

"You do not understand." Gilraen sniffled. "I am…I am with child."

This stunned Denise and she did not know what to say.

"How…how long have you known?" she asked.

"I knew before Lord Boromir left. I wanted to tell him, but I knew he would have stayed behind and I did not want to hold him back."

Denise fought the urge to roll her eyes by Gilraen's last statement. Hold him back? He was going to be a father! That is much better than riding to one's demise!

"And I do not need to hear such nonsense, when I already have so much on my mind." She continued.

"I apologize for causing you grief. That was not my intention. But I have said this because I want Lord Boromir to return to you."

"I do not belief such a story." Gilraen said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"That may be so." Denise began. "But I am still going to do something about it. I will not let him die. I am not sure what kind of proof I can give to for you to believe me, other than the location where it will happen."

"Supposing what you are saying is true, how do you intend to save my husband? You are still recovering from your accident and you have absolutely no skill with a blade, to my knowledge. Are you going to bring him home to me in one of those horseless carriages? No. That is utter nonsense." Gilraen stood up. She looked very angry.

"For the sake of your child, believe me." Denise pleaded.

"And how do you suppose I will do that? How could you expect me to believe that you are from a different time and place?" Gilraen asked. She began to pace the room. Tears began to fill her eyes again.

"Because," Denise began. "I believe this is Middle-earth."


	6. Chapter 6

(Note: Hello everyone! Back again with a new chapter! I am sorry it took so long to post, but my mind momentarily went blank and I began wondering how on earth I would bring help to Boromir without it being too unrealistic, although, I already have a teenager from the 21st century walking around through Middle-earth….how realistic is that, anyway?. But hopefully, you will enjoy what is written in this chapter, and also what is to come in the future. Special thanks to metoochocolate for all of the awesome reviews, support, and suggestions!)

"But, Lord Faramir, you must believe me!" Denise pleaded as she followed the brother of Boromir down the road.

After having gotten nowhere with Gilraen, she had decided to go to someone who had known Boromir longer, and who had more power to do something about it. Denise had been introduced to Faramir the day before, when she and Gilraen were on their way to the market in town. The thought had then occurred to her to mention it to him. And since Gilraen did not have much to say to her anymore, Denise had plenty of time on her hands.

"How do you expect me to believe such a tale? Lady Gilraen is correct; this is nonsense."

"But you are the only one who has power to do anything about it! You need to believe me. Your brother is in danger." Denise grabbed him by his arm as he tried to walk away and looked at him with pleading eyes.

"I cannot drop everything I am doing here, and follow my brother just because you have told me to."

They both went silent, but after a few moments, Denise got a thoughtful look on her face.

"Do you want proof that I am from the future? Well I will give you some!" Denise followed him down the road as she spoke.

"We have never met, right? Let me tell you about yourself! You and your brother are very close, but you constantly fight for acceptance from your father, because he prefers Boromir. Your mother died when you were born." Faramir stopped and turned to look at her with an astonished look on his face.

"Lady Gilraen told you." He said quietly.

"No. You can ask her. I'm telling you….I know what is going to happen….by heart! Shall I go on?"

"No. People are beginning to stare…" Faramir trailed off.

"Lord Faramir, I understand why you do not believe me, but I want you to ask yourself why on earth I would make up such a story. What would my motive be? I have nothing to gain from telling you this." Denise said, lowering her voice.

"Then why would you even bother telling me in the first place?"

"Because," she began. "Because I do not want to see such a fine man's life cut short."

"What…what do you expect me to do then?" Faramir whispered, almost as if he was surrendering.

"Whatever needs to be done to bring him home safe. I know where this will happen, but you are the one who needs to go there. You are a warrior…I'm just a school girl whose only experience with camping outdoors was with the girl scouts." Denise said, placing her hand on his arm. Faramir raised his brows at her strange statement.

"My father will not believe this."

"To hell with—look….what else could I possibly say that would make you realize that your brother's life is in danger?" Denise folded her arms, and as she spoke, her voice escalated to the point where she was almost shouting.

"I need to give this some thought. I care for and love my brother, but even Boromir would not believe such a story." Faramir turned around and began to walk away, to show Denise that their discussion was over.

"Wait! Lord Faramir!"

"What?" he answered with an agitated tone.

"Could you at least give me a map of Middle-earth?"

"What would you want with a map? You do not mean to tell me that you are going off to try to rescue a man who is not even going to die? I believe I was mistaken. You are not making up a story; you are mad and believe your own lies."

"Can you at least give me a map?" Denise asked, completely ignoring his insults.

"Denise, this has gone…"

"Give me a damn map and I will leave you alone!" by this time, Denise had attracted attention through her yelling.

Faramir handed over an old and worn map that he carried around with him, hoping it would shut her up. The look on his face was that of shock. He could not believe the story he had heard, and how the woman who told it, was willing to risk her life for something that would probably not happen.

Denise could not believe what she was doing either. But the thought of Gilraen's unborn child growing up without a father played over and over again in her mind. Amras' words were also tormenting her. Her mind was constantly reeling, and she knew that the only way Boromir was going to live, would be if someone did something about it.

OoOoOoO

Early in the morning the next day, Denise slowly pealed herself out of bed and slid on her shoes. She took a pack from Gilraen's closet (it's not stealing, it's borrowing) and proceeded to stuff a blanket and a pillow inside.

The sun was beginning to rise, but it was still slightly dark and chilly outside. Denise's heart pounded and pounded the more she thought about the journey that was before her. She would be all alone in Middle-earth with a war brewing and nothing but a dagger she had confiscated, to protect her. But she was determined, and anyone who was close to Denise knew that once she had made up her mind, there was no stopping her.

She began stuffing the food she had purchased at the market in another part of the pack, hoping it would be enough and after having a large slice of bread and butter for breakfast, Denise turned and began heading for the front door.

Gilraen would not know and Denise was not about to leave a note for her. It was just as well that she would be ignorant of what was happening anyway. She was with child and did not need any more to worry about than she already did. Besides, Gilraen would think Denise was crazy.

Grabbing the door handle, she turned and took one final glance of the cozy quarters that she had called home for the past month.

"I will return," Denise whispered. "And Boromir will be with me."

She closed the door quietly and stepped out into the fresh air, bumping into someone.

"Yes, he will be with you. And so will I."

"Lord Faramir, what are you doing here?" Denise asked, completely shocked.

"I have thought about what you said."

"And?"

"Perhaps it is selfish of me, but if Boromir were to die like you said, and something could have been done to prevent it, I would never forgive myself. Whether or not you are telling the truth, I do not know, but I have decided to not take the risk. Come; if you are correct, there is not much time."

Denise smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

(Greetings, fellow Lord of the Rings fanatics! I apologize for how long it has been since I've posted a new chapter! I have been extremely busy taking summer classes in college that I have not gotten to write on here for a while! But I am now back with a new chapter that I hope you will enjoy. Since it has been a while, I will remind you just a little bit about what has happened thus far. Remember, Denise is the 21st century girl who has travelled to Middle-earth and is determined to save Boromir. Gilraen is Boromir's wife, Lamiel is Gilraen's friend and has a son named Amras. Gilraen was also expecting the last time we saw her. And finally, in the last chapter I wrote, Faramir was about to accompany Denise on her journey to Amon Hen in order to save Boromir. I hope that has jogged your memory a little bit, so please enjoy and let me know what you think! I'm gonna shut up now!)

OoOoOoO

The terrain was a lot more difficult to cross than Denise had imagined and she was secretly happy that Faramir had decided to accompany her, otherwise she would not have known what to do. He knew the land well and was prepared for all sorts of weather conditions.

Even though Denise was a fairly active and fit individual, her recent injuries were still bothering her. The large fields were not so bad, but the climbing rocks, mountains and hills were just about the end of the 21st century high school student.

Denise always allowed Faramir to lead the way, as he knew where to go and, in all truth, he was not bad to look at. She fought those silly, girlish thoughts as much as she could, but every once in a while she didn't mind sneaking a peak.

On their fourth day away from Minas Tirith, Denise found herself particularly pained and out of breath (which was entirely embarrassing for her). They were crossing especially rocky terrain and she could not help but wonder if she would actually be able to make it.

Slipping, Denise lost her balance and banged her right knee hard into a pointy rock. She wanted so much to scream out in pain and let her tears flow, but as Faramir turned around, she sucked it up and decided to hold it in. They had already had a rocky start and she did not want him to think of her as a crybaby—or the Middle-earth equivalent of one.

"Are you alright?" Faramir asked, sensing that something was the matter.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." Denise said, gritting her teeth. "I just lost my step, but I'm fine now." She did her best to give him a reassuring smile.

Faramir seemed to ignore her last statement, as he gazed out at the setting sun.

"It is getting dark. We will spend the night here." Denise nodded and tried to not seem too happy. Although, she did wonder how they were going to sleep on jagged rocks.

She watched as Faramir bunched his blanket in such a way that would make lying down bearable, and she did her best to copy him. Surprisingly, it worked fairly well.

The night was so cold, Denise could not sleep. Faramir had told her that making a fire in that area was not a wise idea, as it might draw attention to their whereabouts. She understood, but wished otherwise.

She continued to toss and turn throughout the night, scraping her hand several times on rock that her blanket was not protecting her from. _Even the movie didn't seem this bad,_ she thought.

Just as Denise was about to doze off, Faramir woke her and told her to prepare herself for another day of travel. She dared not contradict him, so she slowly arose and began collecting her things. She watched as Faramir rationed out their meager breakfast of bread, bread, oh and…maybe a piece of fruit.

"Thank you," she said, as he handed her a slice that was about an inch think and slightly smaller than her hand. It was severely lacking butter, oil, herbs, and all the good stuff one may like on their bread. But she managed to choke it down.

"Denise," Faramir began, which was unusual because he spoke so rarely. Denise always wondered what thoughts were going through his head.

"Yes?" she answered.

"Do you know how to wield a sword?"

"I'm sorry?" she said surprised, nearly choking on her last bit of bread.

"Can you wield a sword?" he repeated.

"No, no, no. I do not. I never have, and I don't think I—I mean, I am sure I could learn." She decided that the latter was a better response.

"That is fine. You shall have a lesson right after we eat." Faramir said, standing up.

"I beg your pardon?" Denise did not know what to say.

"I do not want to frighten you, but these are dark times, and it is imperative that you learn."

"Alrighty, then! I'm up for anything." Denise tried to sound happier than she actually was. During particularly difficult times, she tried to remind herself that it was to save Boromir and bring him back to his wife.

OoOoOoO

Denise's lesson went fairly well, but by the end, her arms ached and she was not quite sure she remembered any of what he told her. But she tried to look confident.

"Thank you," Denise said quietly. "I am sure I will benefit from that." Faramir nodded in response and began heading off, signaling for her to follow him.

The only problem Denise thought they would have is not quite knowing where the Fellowship was, and whether they were behind or ahead of them. All she knew was that they needed to get to Amon Hen as quickly as possible. That was their best option.

"We are heading to Amon Hen, right?" she finally asked.

"Yes, yes." Faramir mumbled. Denise could sense that he still had a certain amount of disdain for her. Quite often, she would find him staring at her, and then when she would try to meet his gaze, he would quickly turn his head. This, she felt, was because he could not stand her and was trying to contemplate her strange behavior. Part of her could understand why, but the other part wanted to just be friends. She felt very lonely after a while and felt like there was no one in the world to speak to. She would frequently find herself looking up to the stars for comfort, and sometimes hoping that she would wake up in her own bed back home. How was her mother doing? Had she found out about the accident? Did she think Denise was dead? Was time passing at the same amount of time, or did it go faster? Perhaps slower? These were questions that ran through her mind every night, day, and anytime she was not focusing on her original plan. Denise sighed and let a stray tear fall down her cold cheek.

"Denise," Faramir whispered, interrupting her thoughts and making Denise rather agitated.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I know it does not make sense for me to say this now, but—why is it that you have been so adamant about my brother? You have never known him and have nothing to gain from this. I do not understand."

Denise sighed by this statement, as she herself did not quite know the answer to that question. She thought for a moment and answered the best she knew how.

"Because your future nephew deserves a father; Gilraen deserves a husband; and you deserve a brother. If I have the ability to tell you what will happen, then why not let me use it to your advantage? Why fight me so? I want nothing in return. Just your trust—and respect." Denise turned her head and looked up at the stars again. Perhaps they would give her a better answer.

Faramir was dumbfounded. Perhaps he was startled by her kindness and compassion, but he remained silent and closed his eyes. Denise was particularly pissed off by this, as she expected an answer from the man.

"Well?" she finally spoke up.

"What?" he asked.

"Well, don't you have an answer for me?"

"No, I have nothing to say to you. I do not even know what to say."

"Do you mean to tell me that you just woke me up to hear me speak and that was it?" Denise could feel her anger escalating, but this time she did not do anything to suppress it.

"Look, I did not ask you to come with me, if that is what you are upset about." She continued.

"Well, I do not see how you would have survived without my assistance. It has been a struggle for you from the very beginning. Do not think I have not noticed." He spoke with a slight smirk on his face. This enraged Denise.

"So are you saying that you are doing me a favor then?" Denise asked. Faramir sighed.

"Denise," he finally spoke after a few minutes, ignoring her previous question. "I do not want to argue with you. There is much evil in this world and every day we draw closer to danger. Let us not be enemies."

Denise thought for a moment.

"Alright. I suppose you are right." She said trying to smile. Faramir smiled back at her for the first time. _He has a great smile,_ Denise thought.

The next few moments were silent, until Faramir spoke up one last time, nearly shocking Denise.

"You are so beautiful." He said, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. He stared her right in the eyes for a few moments before lying back down and attempting to fall asleep.

What the hell was that about? Faramir never failed to confuse her. Denise just stared at him for a while before she could settle down and even think about sleep. Even though he confused the hell out of her and pissed her off more times than she could count, she could not help but be flattered by his statement. He was quite attractive himself…

_No, no, no, Denise._ She thought._ He's supposed to end up with Eowyn! _


	8. Chapter 8

(Note: Hello everyone! It has been almost an eternity since I posted a chapter on here, but I promise it is not because I was being lazy in front of the TV with a bag of Hostess Cupcakes. It is because I was take summer classes, which I think I mentioned before. Well, I am done now and have posted a new chapter. I hope to have this story finished by the time the fall semester starts, so fingers crosses! Anyway, here is a little bit of a reminder: Denise and Faramir have headed out on a journey towards Amon Hen, where she hopes to save Boromir. Gilraen is Boromir's wife, and Lamiel is Gilraen's friend who has a son named Amras. I hope jogged your memory a bit, and I REALLY hope you enjoy this chapter! Please read and review and remember that constructive criticism is always welcome!)

The days went by at a painfully slow rate, and it made matters worse that Denise and Faramir had gone back to not speaking. Their last real interchange was when Faramir had shocked her by making a move that she did not expect, and that had been ten days before. They were on day fourteen of their journey, and according to Faramir, they luckily only had one day left before arriving at Amon Hen.

Denise sighed a sigh of relief when Faramir told her to take a breather for a moment.

"Denise, why don't you rest here for a few moments? I am going to scout out the area. Something does not feel right and I would not feel comfortable leading you into territory that might be dangerous."

"Alright, thank you." That was the most he had said to her in days, but she was grateful for what he was doing. Denise clumsily plopped down on a smooth rock and pulled her shoes off of her aching feet. What she saw was pretty gruesome; her feet had blistered horribly, and looked like they would bleed at any moment. High-tops, she figured, were not appropriate for a one-hundred and fifty mile journey – on foot.

_I wish Middle-earth made band aids,_ she thought. _Lord of the Rings band aids; that's a thought. They could make a brand for children that have pictures of orcs all over the front. No, that would be too scary. Pictures of hobbits._ Denise chuckled to herself as she came up with that corny idea. Her only source of entertainment was – well, herself. Faramir was might as well have been a brick wall.

"Denise!" Faramir said while frantically running towards her. "Denise, behind the trees! Quick!"

"What? What's going on? Faramir!" Denise was completely stunned and frightened when Faramir grabbed her and practically threw her into the brush.

"What are you doing?" she asked, panting.

"Hush, lay still." Faramir whispered.

"I don't understand." She said quietly. "What is going on?"

"Uruks. They are on our tail. A few more moments and they would have spotted us. They look like they are coming from the west, traveling towards Amon Hen, no doubt. Or Mordor. It is hard to say."

"Amon Hen," Denise said quietly to herself, thinking of Boromir and realizing the fellowship must not be too far away. She carefully tried to calculate in her head where they would be in relation to how far the Uruk-hai were from Amon Hen. This was it, though. They had to get there in time (without being spotted, of course), otherwise their entire journey would be in vain.

"How far are we from Amon Hen?" she whispered.

"No more than a day."

"Good, because-"

"I know," Faramir interrupted. "That is where my brother…" he trailed off.

"We must keep moving without being spotted."

"But how?" she asked, flinching at the sound of the Uruk-hai approaching. She almost did not want to breathe, in fear that they would hear her.

"We will need to take an indirect route; through the forest. It will add at least another couple of days to our journey, but I cannot help that."

"We can't do that, Faramir! We won't get there in time; we will have to take our chances."

"What? And die? What good would that do? My brother will still perish, and so will we; never returning to our families again. Do you want that? They do not even know where we are; if we die, they may never find out what happened to us."

"Then there is no use in continuing our journey. We might as well turn around right now."

"But my brother…"

"Faramir," Denise said sternly, looking into his eyes. "The Uruk-hai can travel tirelessly; at the rate they are going, they will be at Amon Hen by tomorrow afternoon. I am telling you right now; if we do not make every effort to get there at the same time, it will be too late, and Boromir will leave his child fatherless. Do you want that?"

Even Faramir could not fight Denise. What she was saying made perfect sense, but he still realized how risky it would be to follow closely behind.

"Denise," he began. "You do not understand how dangerous this could be for us. You are not a skilled swordswoman, and there is only so much I can do to defend the both of us against countless Uruk-hai. Choosing the route you want to take is potentially deadly. As much as it pains me to do this, I must insist that either we take the indirect route, or we turn around this instant."

Denise could not believe her ears. She understood what he was saying, but by this time, she was too driven to save Boromir.

"Don't you care about your future niece or nephew?" she raised her voice in response, which by this time was alright, since the Uruks were safely out of earshot.

"Of course I do, how dare you imply that I do not! You are acting like a child, ready to make any rash decision that comes into your mind, unworried about the consequences. Warfare is not like – picking out a gown to wear to a ball, Denise; sometimes your only choices are placed before you and you have no other options but to choose the one that will cause your men the least harm. This requires thought, something that you have clearly not done since we set out on this journey! If I were to let you saunter after the Uruks, I would be sending you to your death! Now, we will turn around this once!"

"But then our whole trip would be in vain! Faramir, please!"

"Have you not heard a word I just spoke to you?"

"I have, and I refuse to listen to you. You have no authority over me; I am not one of your soldiers, nor did I ask you to come with me. If you want to return to Minas Tirith, you may do so. But allow me to keep a map and some food, and I will continue following the Anduin towards Amon Hen."

By this time, Faramir was infuriated.

"I will do no such thing. What kind of thing would that be for me to do? Let you wander out into the wilderness on your own? Do you have any idea what kind of danger lies before you? Clearly you do not."

"No, Faramir." Denise said, lowering her voice, and placing her hand on Faramir's shoulder

"Clearly, I do." Faramir stared intently into her beautiful, sparkling eyes.

"You see," she began. "Where I come from, there is a lot of warfare—fighting, hatred, sin, murder—it seems never ending at times. It is no different in my country than it is in yours. And sometimes, when I hear about a death, I wish that there was something that I could have done to prevent it. Most of the time in life, Faramir, you do not get a chance to prevent death. But if you ever get the chance, why not grab ahold of it and do all in your power to help save a life? And this is even more important in your case; this is your brother, your niece or nephew's father, and your sister-in-law's husband."

Faramir was speechless for a few moments before he could find the words to say.

"Denise, you are a narrow-minded, pigheaded, uppity woman who makes rash decisions and never follows orders. I have dealt with and lead many men in my time, but never have I faced someone quite like you." Faramir paused, looking Denise straight in the eyes. She looked down at the ground in defeat.

"But, I find myself unable to completely argue with you. He is my brother." Faramir sighed.

"If Boromir is as close to Amon Hen as you say he is, then we must take our chances and follow the Anduin. I will say no more. Keep up." Faramir stood up from where they were sitting behind the brush and began to carefully follow the path of the Uruk-hai. They were so far in the distance that they could not even be seen. But it would still be dangerous. Were there more following them?

Denise knew that Faramir was furious with her. He was putting his life in danger for something that he still did not quite believe would happen. At times, she knew that he thought she was crazy. But she really did not care, because she knew the truth.

Her heart began to pound in excitement and fear for what was ahead; but she hoped with all her heart that she would be able to bring Boromir home safely to his wife and child.


	9. Chapter 9

Denise's feet bled. She may have been wearing 21st century sneakers, but they quickly wore down from the rocky terrain and the endless travel she and Faramir endured. She knew they were coming closer to Amon Hen, though, and that is what kept her going. Faramir rarely spoke to her, and the only time he would bother to acknowledge Denise was when he was ordering her to take a rest, or ordering her to quicken her pace. She did, however, notice him glancing at her every once in a while when he thought she was not looking. But she was.

His behavior was very confusing. At one moment, he would look at her with utter disdain, and the next, he would seem entranced by her beauty. Denise did the best she could to ignore this (and her slight attraction to him) and to focus on her real reason for setting out on such a dangerous journey.

"We will not make it in time." Faramir said, stopping abruptly and catching his breath.

"The Uruks are far too fast and you are in no shape to continue on at this pace. You are still recovering from your wounds…or whatever it is that happened to you. Here." Faramir handed his canteen to Denise, and she smiled at his unusual act of kindness…or sympathy.

"I will do my best. I'm sure I can make it. This water is refreshing…" she paused for a moment, looking at the fast-moving river.

"If only we had a boat." Denise said after a few moments. Faramir nodded in agreement, but said nothing. He then gestured for her to get moving again. She took a deep breath and starting running as fast as she could.

Night came, and Faramir insisted that they end their journey for the night. Denise agreed. Exhaustion was quickly catching up with her.

She shivered beneath her thin blanket. Faramir had been unable to light a fire for fear of being spotted by the Uruk-hai in the distance.

"Denise," Faramir whispered, and placed a hand on her shoulder. She quivered at his touch.

"Yes?"

"You have my blanket." Faramir rolled it up and tried to hand it to her.

"No, I won't hear of it. It is freezing out…I am most certainly not going to let you sleep in the cold like that." Denise turned over, but Faramir's hand still remained on her shoulder. This made her a bit nervous; she liked the feel of his touch, but at the same time, she was confused as to why he was suddenly being so kind to her. She turned to face him.

"I have another way we can keep warm." Faramir said, looking deep into Denise's eyes.

"I beg your pardon?" she said surprised. Faramir took her hand and kissed it.

"I know that we have not gotten along since the beginning of our journey, but…" he trailed off.

"Never mind." Faramir turned over and closed his eyes.

"Wait!" Denise exclaimed, sitting up and grabbing him by the arm. "What is it that you want to tell me?"

"You are so beautiful…" Faramir turned his head and gazed at her once again. Denise couldn't help but feel her heart melt. As mature as she was, she was still an inexperienced young woman who enjoyed the attention that older men paid her. Faramir was not terribly old at all, but he was a far cry from the immature high school seniors that Denise had to deal with in the 21st century.

"Faramir," she whispered, taking his hand. "I hardly know what to say. I must admit that this comes as a shock to me, but…" she paused, trying to gather her thoughts so they came out in a logical order.

"But?" Faramir said, taking his hand and slowly caressing Denise's soft, porcelain cheek.

"I feel safe with you." Denise said, blushing. That was her way of telling Faramir that she was quite attracted to him, indeed.

Faramir smiled and sat up. He took her face in his hands, and pulled her close, giving her the sweetest kiss she had ever experienced in her life. Faramir pulled out of the kiss for a moment and looked deeply into her innocent eyes. She smiled at him, but he could tell that she was still nervous about what was to come.

"It will be alright, lass." Faramir said, squeezing her hands. Their next kiss was of a more passionate nature, and before she knew it, she felt Faramir's hands approach places that she was not so sure she wanted them to go.

"Wait." She stopped him, panting. "I can't." Faramir looked hurt, but she knew he was an honorable man and would understand her hesitation.

"I've never…" she trailed off.

"You are untouched." Faramir spoke. Denise nodded and he smiled at her, almost touched by her innocence.

"Then I will let you sleep beneath your own blanket tonight." Faramir turned over, leaving Denise more confused than ever. What had just happened? Did he really just try to be intimate with her? Her heart pounded and her hormones were still raging throughout her body. She was proud of her strong will and how she had said no to Faramir, but she was still left with so many strange feelings.

_Oh just forget about it, Denise._ She thought._ You can worry about it after you find Boromir._


	10. Chapter 10

Exchanges between Faramir and Denise were not nearly as chilly as she thought they would be. Faramir was a bit hesitant in the early morning hours, but as the day went on and they came closer and closer Amon Hen, he seemed to ease up on his emotions and became a little more talkative.

Denise still could not get the night before out of her head, though. Part of her felt incredibly attracted to Faramir, and the other part knew how very wrong indeed it would to screw up Tolkien's whole plot line. But then again, that is what she was doing by attempting to save Boromir. Ugh. Why did emotions have to be so strong and complicated?

"I can see movement on the other side of the river." Faramir halted and pointed towards a group of trees. Denise could indeed see figures moving around frantically behind the brush, and her heart skipped a beat. "And they are no Uruks." He finished.

"What do we do?" Denise asked, both excited and terrified at the same time. She went to say something else, but paused, hearing a sound that indicated that they were in the right place, but were perhaps too late.

"The horn of Gondor." Denise whispered. She looked up at Faramir and could see the slight fear in his eyes.

"My brother is here…And he needs help. Quickly, Denise!" Denise ran as fast as she could after the very agile Faramir. He was used to rough terrain and difficult physical activity, but she was not; certainly not after a serious automobile accident.

They made their way across the river, by taking a longer indirect route. Denise could feel her heart pounding in her throat. Sweat dripped down her forehead, and she panted, so out of breath that she felt like she might pass out. But she kept going; the sound of fighting and the horn of Gondor growing closer making her persist.

"Stop!" Faramir grabbed Denise by the arm and pulled her next to him behind a large tree.

"You are to stay here." He said. "I know you do not like having to listen to orders, but this is a matter of life and death. You are an inexperienced fighter, and even with the little bit of sword training I gave you, you will not stand a chance against the Uruk-hai." Faramir spoke quickly, nervously, and slightly out of breath.

"Do you understand me?" Denise nodded. Now was not the time to argue with the man. She did not want to distract him when Uruk-hai could show up at any moment. Faramir went to leave, but turn and gave her a small peck on the cheek.

"Here," he handed her a large dagger. "This is for your protection, but I pray you will not need it." And with that, Faramir charged forward and toward the direction of the battle. Denise knew that the Uruk-hai were attacking the Fellowship. She gulped and grasped her dagger tightly. What if she had sent Faramir to his death? The sounds of the Uruks in the distance made tears well up in her eyes. Denise was shocked by her reaction to the situation; she was normally level-headed under stress, but the fear she felt was very real and intense.

The wind blew, rustling the leaves, and reminding Denise that while there was evil in the world, there was still the beauty and innocence of nature. The green on the leaves was calming and relaxed her, almost taking her out of herself for a moment, making her forget about the troubles she faced and how much she missed her family. She then thought about Faramir, his eyes, his smile, and his very real and true feelings for her. Denise wanted so desperately to return them, but something from inside of her prevented her from entirely doing that.

After a few minutes of day dreaming, Denise snapped back to reality and dared to poke her head out from behind the tree. It was then when she realized something terrifying; a great number of Uruk-hai were charging in her direction. She trembled and clutched her dagger for dear life, hoping that somehow it would do the work for her and would suddenly make her into a skilled shield-maiden of Gondor. Luckily for her, however, in their quickened pace, they did not even notice the young girl hiding behind the brush. Two "little people" seemed to lead the charge and were running as fast as their little legs could carry them. Although, they seemed to be running _from_ the Uruks. Not with them.

"Merry and Pippin." Denise whispered. She did not know whether to be excited or scared. If they were running from the Uruk-hai, then that meant only one thing; Boromir was not too far away.

Denise looked around frantically but could not spot Faramir anywhere. If anyone was going to be able to save Boromir, it would be him. She barely had enough coordination to walk and chew gum, let alone wield a sword successfully against gigantic, skilled monsters.

Merry and Pippin were cornered by the Uruks and it seemed to play out just like it did in the film. And then she saw Boromir bravely jump out and bring his sword down on one of the attacking Uruk-hai. Denise's heard pounded so hard, she thought it was going to either explode or come out of her chest. He was just as brave a fighter in real life as he was in the books and movies. He handled his sword like it was nothing.

Denise could not just stand there. She had to do something about it, and she had to move quickly. It was only a matter of a few minutes.

The captain of the Uruk-hai came forward and began to aim his crossbow at Boromir.

_What am I doing? What do I do? I can't fight! It is just me against them!_ Denise thought and panted heavily.

He pulled back his bow and snarled evilly at the unknowing warrior, doing his best to protect the frightened hobbits.

_Sneak up and get him from behind! He won't see it coming from behind the trees! But will I be able to take him down? He's huge and I'm barely even half his size!_ Denise gathered all of her courage and strength, and prayed that the journey she had been so adamant about would not be in vain.

The arrow flew out from the bow in what seemed like slow motion to Denise. She could not believe her eyes as she watched the first arrow hit the tree to Boromir's left. He looked startled by this happening, but he could not watch much longer, as two more Uruk-hai came at him.

Denise moved quickly, and as she pinned the Uruk captain down, she pulled out her dagger and drove it as hard and as deep as she could into his back. He snarled, and from out of nowhere, gathered an amazing amount of strength and threw Denise off of him. She did notice that he was slightly slowed down; not by much, but enough for her to realize that she was having an impact on the situation.

The ground hurt as she smacked her head upon it and the grass was cold and damp. She moaned in pain, but was able to roll out of the way as the Uruk brought his sword down. Denise got to her feet and realized that her dagger had fallen when she had been thrown. She frantically looked around for it through the leaves, but was unsuccessful.

The Uruk brought his sword down again, this time slicing her hard in the side. Denise yelled out; the pain was searing and unlike anything she had ever felt before. She could feel her warm blood begin to quickly trickle down her abdomen, and she gasped in agony. Boromir tried to make his way as fast as he could to his guardian angel's side, but there were so many Uruk-hai around them it was almost impossible.

Denise's vision became blurry and she felt as if she was going to pass out. Although she was in a haze, she looked over and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Aragorn run to Boromir's aid. He easily cut down the Uruk-hai captain just as he did in the film, and then began to assist in the slaying of as many orcs as they could manage. Merry and Pippin stood completely still, and before they knew it, they were scooped up by the Uruks just like it had been in the film. Denise watched in horror. She was paralyzed with pain; there was nothing she could do about it. Boromir tried to fight their way to where the Halflings were, but it was no use. The large group of Uruk-hai who had taken Merry and Pippin escaped and were soon out of sight.

Denise lay on the ground shaking and wondering how deep her would was. Boromir was the first to her side.

"You saved me." He spoke for the first time, and Denise's heart jumped for joy at the thought that he was still alive. All she could do was smile at him.

"Your wound needs to be looked at." He said quietly. Denise gestured for him to lift her shirt and have a look at the damage that had been done. Boromir lifted up her shirt and raised his brows at what he saw.

"Well," he began. Aragorn approached from behind and knelt down. "It is not as bad as I feared; I thought it had reached the bone but it has not." Boromir said smiling warmly at Denise.

"It has not gone deep at all." Aragorn said. He pulled out a long, torn cloth, placed it upon her wound, and proceeded to wrap it around her torso. Denise flinched and bit her lip. Boromir took her hand and let her squeeze it as tightly as she needed to. She was touched by his kind gesture.

"There." Aragorn said. "You will be alright, but you must keep an eye on this wound. Can you stand up?"

Denise placed both of her hands on the ground and used it as leverage to help her stand up. Boromir grabbed her arm and helped.

The pain was still present, but not as bad as it had been. Denise wondered what Aragorn had put on her wound to make it feel better; he was as much of a mystery in person as he had been in the books and films.

"Thank you," Denise said smiling. "It feels much better."

"She saved my life." Boromir said, ignoring her last statement and turning to Aragorn.

"Where are you from?" Aragorn asked.

"Do not bother asking her that question, for you will find yourselves very confused by her answer." Faramir appeared from behind the trees with a smirk on his face. Denise could not help but chuckle at him.

"Are you alright?" Faramir asked, placing his hand on Denise's arm.

"Faramir, what are you doing here?" Boromir interrupted Indeed he must have been surprised to see his younger brother appear out of nowhere. They embraced.

"It all ties back to the woman that you see before you." Denise blushed.

"My name is Denise." She said awkwardly, and looked up at Faramir.

"She saved my life." Boromir said to his brother. "I had foolishly left my shield behind; had it not been for her I would have been pierced by an arrow."

Faramir's eyes widened and suddenly it all came together for him. Throughout their entire journey, his heart was full of doubt. It was hard for him to trust a woman who claimed to be from another time and place. But she clearly had been telling the truth. Faramir was suddenly overwhelmed with joy. Gilraen would still have a husband; her child would have a father; and he would still have a brother. He looked down at Denise's petite figure. How had she been able to endure all that they had gone through?

"Thank you," he whispered only loud enough for her to hear.

"You are welcome." She beamed, but then paused and a sad look came upon her face. "But they took the hobbits! Those Uruks grabbed them and escaped!" The three men's faces fell, as they were sure it was grim for Merry and Pippin.

Legolas and Gimli approached from behind the trees and saw the group of four standing together.

"We must hurry! Frodo and Sam have—" Legolas paused and realized that Aragorn must have let him go on his own. "Merry and Pippin have been taken." He said quietly. The men nodded.

"Those poor little ones!" Gimli exclaimed. "They will not survive those fiends for long! I can only imagine what foul treatment they are receiving!"

"No," Denise began. "They will not be touched, and they will not stay under the control of the Uruks for long." She could not help but open her mouth.

"And how would you know this, Lass? You know not what evil lies ahead of us!"

"Settle down, Master Gimli. Denise knows what she is saying." Faramir said.

"Denise saved my life," Boromir began. "But, Brother, how could you believe that she is correct about this? She could never be right."

Faramir smiled and looked his brother over. He was a brave warrior; he held his head high and proud and stared intently at his little brother. For a few moments, Faramir thought about their childhood, as one usually does when they go through a life or death situation. He was immensely grateful for Denise. They had been blessed by her."

"I can certainly understand your hesitation, Boromir." Faramir looked at Denise and then looked back at his brother. "But, never say never."

(Note: Well, I hope you all enjoyed the final chapter to my story! I really had difficulty ending it a way in which I was satisfied. But I really hope you all liked it. I have an idea to do a sequel to this story; kind of like a continuation to "Never Say Never." It would be a story showing what it would be like if Boromir had lived. All of the same characters would be in the story, but I want to know what you guys think. I really want my stories to entertain, and so if you think you would like to see more of Denise, Faramir and Boromir, then just say the word and I will begin brainstorming for a new story! Please let me know! And I would also like to thank all of my reviewers! I may not get the chance to respond to all of you, but I want you to know how much I appreciate your comments/constructive criticism. Thank you and God bless!)


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